


Dagitab

by minwonderlust



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Reincarnation, Soulmates, pairings and tags will be added as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-22 04:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16590989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minwonderlust/pseuds/minwonderlust
Summary: Seungcheol doesn’t understand the hollow feeling in his chest; doesn’t know what he’s missing until he sees even the faintest spark, and he is suddenly reminded of the most radiant eyes and blinding smile and lips that light up his insides like wildfire; suddenly reminded that a part of him is lost.And all this time, Jeonghan is just waiting to be found.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Filipino movie of the same name. It means "sparks", and I fell in love with it the moment I learned about it.
> 
> I honestly don't have a solid plot mapped out just yet but I've been craving to write JeongCheol, and ended up word vomiting the first chapter. Also, this is unbetaed so any mistake is mine.
> 
> Thank you for taking interest in this fic and I hope you get to join me on this ride!!!

It hasn't even been an hour since Seungcheol left the airport and he's already undeniably regretting ever coming here alone. When he said he was going to lose himself in the jewel city of Tokyo, he hadn't meant _actually, literally, physically_ getting lost.

And in a vast ocean of locals and tourists alike, he feels himself drowning. A wave of anxiety washes over him and the need to get himself ashore suddenly rings in his ears with urgency.

His eyes scan his surroundings. It’s like he never really got off the plane and it just hit turbulence while he’s high up in the clouds. He has to squeeze his eyes shut and focus on keeping his breaths even when that happens. The long haul travels are always the worst and it takes great effort to sleep through them. He knows how rides easily make him sick yet he stays unmindful when little voices inside his head tell him to fly to this sleepless part of the world.

With his suitcase trailing behind him and his knapsack resting heavily against his back, he wills to get his feet moving towards the direction of the pavements, albeit lethargically. The soles of his shoes scrape against the asphalt in tired and lazy steps, and he feels his body wanting to just become one with the ground he's standing on.

Getting through busy bodies rushing from different directions makes it more challenging, but everyone seems to carry on and just go with the rapid flow of bustling people. Everyone except for Seungcheol who whips out an apology here and there when he bumps against someone's shoulder or when his foot gets tangled in someone else's step. He's not even sure who's at fault when these things happen yet he feels like it's his by standing there and blocking their way.

The thing about Seungcheol is that he goes around searching and searching but has no definite idea of what he’s looking for; knows he’s following the right track yet unaware of how long the road is and where he should stop. It’s always his gut feeling winning over every sensible part of his brain, and this is where it lead him.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally reaches the sidewalk. His feet come to an abrupt stop and the wheels of his suitcase follow. He slides the straps of his bag off his shoulders and places them on top of his luggage before slumping back against the railings. The cold metal sends a sharp tingling feeling through the fabric of his shirt and onto bare skin, making him gasp just as he catches his breath after the obvious struggle he just overcame.

He allows the crisp air of Japan to hit his face and it's when he feels like he's back in tip-top shape that he truly admires the beauty of this city.

A spectrum of lights from high rise buildings and huge LED screens paint the whole area like a wide canvas, and Seungcheol is merely a spectator. He feels oddly out of place; like unwanted dust on a masterpiece such as this. He mildly wonders if it looks just as pleasant under daylight, and decides just a second after that it does. It’s the same place after all.

When he is sure he has adjusted from the initial shock, he throws his bag on his back again and wraps his fingers around the handle of his suitcase. But before he could take even a single step, something in the near distance flashes, and suddenly a big part of the street across from him is engulfed in darkness. One of the large ad board's lights went out but only for a fleeting second. It’s probably just a glitch in the system yet it made Seungcheol stare, unlike everyone else who pays no mind.

What meets his eyes are ones looking back at him—no, they're looking directly at the camera but something tells Seungcheol that those eyes are actually staring at _him._

It’s nearing midnight and Seungcheol is tired but they remind him of coffee, and they might as well be with how awake he's suddenly feeling.

He doesn't know how long he stays that way but the newfound pain on his neck from having looked up for so long makes him hyperaware of the fact that he's in the middle of the capital of a foreign land and he's spacing out because of a person he's seen for the first time. Except he thinks he had seen that face before. Well, he did just witness him on a large screen in the middle of one of the most populated cities in the world so he’s probably already an established name and must have graced millions of other screens.

He cranes his head from side to side to ease it from the dull ache before throwing one last look back at the screen where the name _Akihiko_ appears in bold white letters just a bit south. He tries not to dwell at the sinking feeling in his stomach when the final trace of the boy’s face morphs into a new image. _Tries,_ because the fact that he might have overlooked such striking face in the past bothers him so much. He makes sure he won’t forget him from now on.

Or so he thinks.


	2. Chapter 2

Seungcheol reaches for his phone on the bedside table, the harsh stream of sunlight making him groan when it penetrates through the cracks of the blinds and targets his still blurry vision.

The screen roars with three messages from Jihoon. _Good morning to you, too, Ji._

**_Jihoon_ **

_Got there safely?_

_Send me a message when you read this._

The time stamps on the first two read 3:37 am. Seungcheol guesses the other hasn’t been sleeping again.

_I hope you find what you’re looking for, Cheol._

The third one was sent two minutes later, and Seungcheol thinks Jihoon might have hesitated before sending it. They’ve been friends for years and they know each other like the back of their hands. Seungcheol knows Jihoon has been up all night in his studio, knows the other doesn’t like leaving things undone which is why he knows he’d drunk about two cups of brewed coffee with two spoons each of sugar and cream. Jihoon knows it slipped from Seungcheol’s mind to tell him he arrived in one piece despite the younger reminding him countless of times, knows Seungcheol is just forgetful like that, knows that Seungcheol is looking. For what, that he doesn’t know, because even Seungcheol doesn’t.

**_Seungcheol_ **

_I’m here._

_Did you finish writing?_

_I hope so too, Ji._

He really hopes he does. It’s his first visit to Japan but this isn’t a vacation. He would be relaxing if it is, not getting troubled by the fact that he has no idea why he’s here in the first place. Tokyo is a huge city and he honestly doesn’t know where to start. He’s aware that the odds of meeting someone you actually _know_ in the onslaught of people who walk these streets every day is low. So when he told Jihoon about his plan a week ago, he received dubious looks until Jihoon gave him a light smile, because he knows nothing can change Seungcheol’s mind.

_“Do you want me to come with you?” Jihoon offers more than asks, but Seungcheol shakes his head no._

_“It’s fine, Ji. You have songs to write.”_

_A pregnant pause follows. Seungcheol waits while Jihoon thinks about it until a soft hum comes from the younger._

_“Alright, but you know I would go to the ends of the earth with you if it means you finally find whatever you’re looking for and you finally get to be at peace.”_

_Seungcheol doesn’t say anything but Jihoon knows he would do the same for him._

Something clicks inside his head and it triggers images of the boy from last night. He opens the browser and types the name Akihiko in the search box, unaware of how his feelings seem to go into overdrive when his fingers slide over the keys each character of the stranger’s name has.

The first result shows the meaning of the name. _Bright boy,_ Seungcheol reads softly. He thinks it’s fitting. The only Akihiko he knows, the one that has been bugging him since last night, radiate the light of a thousand stars.

The second one shows the character of a game Seungcheol has never heard of so he is quick to move on to the next entry. He does a double take when he reads the next result because something tells him _it’s the person he is looking for._

He clicks on the link and he doesn’t know why he’s nervous about it.

_Yoon Jeonghan, better known by his stage name Akihiko, is a South Korean singer based in Japan. His musical career includes three albums and seven singles..._

Seungcheol doesn’t get to read more of the article because he suddenly feels his head pounding at the same time his heart beats in erratic rhythms at the foreign yet oddly familiar scenes running inside his head like a movie teaser. They’re like fragmented pieces of the most important scenes from different movies edited into one. It forces him to shut his eyes to try and relieve the unwelcomed throbbing but it doesn’t help because it only makes the images more vivid.

The first one is of him reaching out to touch the side of the other’s face. In the image, Akihiko or Jeonghan, whoever he is, has long brown locks and it brushes against Seungcheol’s fingers just as his thumb brushes Akihiko’s skin. He could feel the other smiling at his touch and it pulls one from his lips as well.

The next image that appears has Akihiko’s hair cut a couple of inches shorter and a few shades lighter; it reminds him of peach carnations, soft and delicate and absolutely beautiful. He looks different and so does Seungcheol with his gleaming silver hair, yet the smile Akihiko gives him—as Seungcheol wraps an arm around his shoulder to bring him closer, shielding him from the sun under his umbrella (although Seungcheol thinks nothing comes close to how bright and warm Akihiko is)—remains the same.

A few more images come into sight and they’re all from different times, with different clothes, in different places. The only things that remain constant are Seungcheol and Akihiko and the familiarity that is laced with Akihiko’s presence.

 _“Seungcheollie…”_ The sound that makes Seungcheol’s eyes fly open is faint, barely there, but Seungcheol knows he’s heard that voice in the past, knows that voice has called him countless of times, has told him a thousand things before.

Seungcheol doesn’t understand why glass beads are suddenly forming in the corner of his eyes until a picture is drawn along with that single call of his name and he feels it burning his eyes and stabbing his chest. What he sees feels so real, like he was there when it happened, like he experienced it in flesh, and it hurts.

_The traffic light flashes red. It’s almost two in the morning so it’s only him and Jeonghan walking to get to the other side of the road. The night is quiet and they haven’t been talking, but the silence comforts them both. He can only hear the sound of the wind blowing Jeonghan’s fringes, the sound of his and Jeonghan’s patterned steps, the sound of butterflies flapping their wings wildly inside his stomach when Jeonghan tangles his fingers in the spaces between Seungcheol’s. The night is quiet and so is the car speeding towards their direction. The headlight blinds him and has him frozen on the spot in shock. The night is quiet that he hears the soft  pained cry from Jeonghan’s lips. The night is quiet that he manages to hear his own ragged voice breathe out his love for Jeonghan and hears Jeonghan call his name for the last time before the midnight sky engulfs everything around him, completely putting out his lover’s light._

Seungcheol cries and cries and cries as he remembers how hard the skies cried the first time he’s met Jeonghan in that life.


End file.
